


reflections

by Tomohisa



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Mirror Universe, POV Second Person, literally - everyone has a mirror counterpart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 22:18:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6027448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomohisa/pseuds/Tomohisa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, you feel a familiar pull in your stomach. A lurch that yanks you out of bed at all hours of the night. Your heart thumps erratically in your chest, but you follow the direction your feet take you in. Even if you can't remember the way come morning.</p><p>Each time, he is there waiting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	reflections

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a really old piece from last summer, when I started musing about a what a _Haikyuu!!_ mirror universe would be like. I've re-written parts of it again and again since then. There's not much of a plot though - it's more of a word ramble.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

You're only ten the first time you stand in front of the Mirror. Most wait until they're a lot older. Not everyone does it. Sometimes, nothing happens. Sometimes, you see someone looking back. Sometimes, you can pull them through.

Sometimes, _they_ pull _you_ through.

You shudder involuntarily.

You're not really sure what lured you to the Mirror that night. Everyone else was still in bed, but you'd felt an insistent sort of _pull_ towards this room. They don't even tell you where it is. At least, that's what you'd been told. That you'd just  _know_ , and so you had.

So here you are, barefoot in a freezing room with a stone floor, standing before its ornate frame without any particular kind of feeling. You gaze into it, and are almost disappointed to meet your own eyes.

As you take in your own reflection - short stature, red hair, white t-shirt and pyjama shorts - something moves in the corner of the Mirror.

Spooked, you turn around only to find the room behind you as empty as ever.

When you turn back, your stomach lurches as you find yourself having to look up at a moody face so unlike your own.

Your own image has disappeared. Instead, there's a young boy standing before you, looking just as startled as you feel. His appearance is so sudden you find yourself taking a couple of steps backwards, hands raised defensively. He looks almost offended.

He snorts - not that you hear it - and crosses his arms. You'd say he was frowning, but his face just looks like a slightly moodier version of how it did earlier.

Is this really your Reflection?

He's standing there, crossed arms, with a messy bed-head - his dark hair is a direct contrast to your own - and a mussed up shirt. He - like you - has obviously made his way straight here from bed. You glance down at his feet and see that he was at least sensible enough to put on socks. When you really think about it, you realise his appearance is so altogether non-threatening that you almost find yourself smiling.

He eyes you suspiciously as you lower your arms and straighten up. You feel an impulse prickling at one of your arms, and you act on it. Cocking your head to one side, you slowly raise a palm to press against the Mirror's cool surface.

His expression wipes into something neutral - considering - but he raises a hand to meet yours. You stare at both of your hands and then throw him a bright smile, which only gets brighter as his face flushes to a dark red.

Flustered, he looks away and lowers his arm. You can see in his eyes that he's thinking of leaving you, so you move closer and thump your other hand heavily at the barrier between you. He glances at you, but ultimately is too embarrassed to recover the moment of connection you both just lost.

He looks away and strokes one of his bare arms awkwardly, and your face falls when he doesn't respond.

* * *

There are a few more encounters between you and your Reflection over the years. You'd forgotten to mention the first to your friends the first few months after it had happened, and when you finally do tell them, they don't believe you.

It's understandable. You almost don't believe that initial meeting happened yourself.

The first time you have your Reflections class, excitement bubbles up in your stomach, because you already  _know_ this. It's happened to you first-hand.

You tug on your friend's sleeve, whispering in his ear about your encounter as the teacher talks, but he brushes you off dismissively. Later, at lunch, you try again to talk to everyone about it, and they collectively roll their eyes.

It's not that it doesn't happen, but it's  _rare_. And you've never been lucky.

* * *

A few years later, at fourteen, you realise that it doesn't matter what others think. Whatever happens in that room is not their concern.

Sometimes, you feel a familiar pull in your stomach. A lurch that yanks you out of bed at all hours of the night. Your heart thumps erratically in your chest, but you follow the direction your feet take you in. Even if you can't remember the way come morning.

Each time, he is there waiting.

Sometimes, you're not even sure why you go to the Mirror. Your Reflection obviously shares the same urge as you though, because he's always there to greet you.

On one occasion, he appears after you - an unusual occurrence in itself - with distinctly messed up hair and a sleepy expression on his face. You almost feel bad, but then remember that you're the one that has been sat on a cold floor for almost an hour. Your toes twitch in their woolly socks. At least you'd remembered to wear warmer clothes this time round.

He yawns and stretches his arms above his head, distractedly scratching his stomach when he's done. You don't move from where you sit on the floor, crossed legged, instead choosing to grin up at him. How you'd ever thought this boy was scary, you'll never know.

It's almost as though he hears your thoughts, because he frowns as he joins you on the floor.

* * *

Not everyone has the same kind of Reflection. After all, not everyone _has_ a Reflection. They drill that into you at least once a week in class.

There are usually similarities, however, between you and them. Some feeling of connection that you will never get with someone on this Side. A twin quality shared between the two of you.

This manifests in different ways, of course. You know exactly what yours is though. A Shadow. A darker aspect of your self that doesn't seem to match up with your appearance at all. Quite literally, you think, if your Shadow's black hair and grumpy appearance was anything to go by.

You'd felt the connection though. There was no denying that you two were Reflections of one another. Two halves - each incomplete without the other.

* * *

At sixteen, you've come to rely on the Mirror more than most. Even when things are going badly during the day, your Reflection is always there at night. A constant, comforting presence in your life.

And so you crumple on the floor, head bowed. Everything is falling apart. Despite your need for reassurance, you can't even bring yourself to look at him. Tentatively, you place a single hand on the Mirror. It feels cold but familiar against your palm. A single tear trails its way down to your chin.

Suddenly, you feel your hand falling forwards, something warm threading between your fingers. Startled, you look up.

Your dark-haired Shadow is crouched in front of you, one hand braced against the Mirror, the other entwined with your own. Disturbed, you make to yank your hand back, but he holds tight.

Meeting his gaze, you finally notice his frown. He mouths something at you, but as always your ears hear nothing. Somehow, that makes you more upset than it usually does.

"I… I can't understand you." Your voice cracks on the last word and you look down again, hiccuping softly.

He rubs the edge of your knuckle softly and you look up. Your tears are almost falling freely now.

When you meet his gaze with blurry eyes, he looks determined. Tentatively, he pulls your linked hands forward. There's something in his eyes begging to be trusted. Your heart beats a little more rapidly, but you let him pull you further to his side of the Mirror.

Your other hand finds its way up to lean on the Mirror for balance, and then it's falling too. His hands pull at yours, tugging you head-first into his chest.

The entire room feels warmer at this side, and you shudder with surprise or maybe even relief. Your Shadow's arms snake their way around your chest to fist tightly into the back of your shirt. His heartbeat thumps fiercely in your ear.

You manage to utter out a brief gasp of thanks before bursting loudly into tears. You bury your face in his shirt, hands clenching at his chest, as he moves slightly to make you both more comfortable.

After several minutes of quiet snuffling, you freeze in place. It suddenly occurs to you that you have essentially soaked the shirt of a stranger with your tears. Albeit, the stranger also happens to be your Shadow.

You swallow thickly. His scent is comforting, and you breathe it in deeply, relaxing your hands against his chest.

"Are you all right now?" A voice deeper than you had imagined breaks the silence. His heart has slowed to a steady thud, but yours picks up like a hummingbird's.

You pull yourself back, wiping the back of a hand over your eyes. "I'm fine."

**Author's Note:**

> The original idea I had for this fic was really dark, with the Reflections being evil and various characters dying and things like that. I kind of like how it turned out though - a lot more soft around the edges.


End file.
